The Miranda Contract Read Online Free PDF

blank surprise to a more cunning flash of excitement.
    The mobile network suddenly surged again as the texts continued flying back and forth through the invisible web of people and their phones. With a little effort Dan managed to heighten the urgency, duplicating messages around him and thrusting them in different directions, spinning them into oblivion.
    The message was the same though.
    And the people started to receive it and immediately reacted. The woman on the van slid down to the pavement right next to Dan. Her skirt rode up her thigh and she tried to pull it down as she raced across to her partner on the other side of the road. He was already gunning the car’s accelerator.
    Other people started hurrying down towards the north end of the street like lemmings and behind them the parked vehicles hummed into action. More lights streaked across in all directions as cars pulled illegal u-turns and nearly ran down the scuttling fans and other gawking people.
    Miranda Brody’s group remained pinned against the window of the hotel. They had received the message as well and Dan could see at least two of them puzzling over their phones.
    “All in a day’s work,” Dan smirked and climbed on to his bike, kicking the stand back and rolling it to the roadside. He slipped his helmet on and turned the key. The street was already emptying and he had a clear passage to the south end of the street, just as he had planned.
    A man grabbed his arm as he began to move off, surprising Dan. He struggled to free himself but the man held on. It was one of Brody’s people, all dark shades and expensive suits.
    “Did you do that?” the man asked. He pulled off his shades and looked directly at Dan, eyeball to eyeball. “Did you just do what I think you did?”
    Dan shook his arm again, pulling himself free.
    “Man, I didn’t do anything,” Dan said. “This is all your mess.”
    He kick started his bike and roared up the street, but the man’s eyes stayed on his back. Dan couldn’t resist a glance in his side mirror. Behind him he caught the convergence of Brody’s two groups of people as they ushered their star inside the hotel. Some of them were looking towards him but he didn’t care about them anymore.
    He had his bike and a clear path to the last job.
    The message he sent was already erased from his phone and the people who flocked to the other entrance of the hotel would later be wondering who sent them the text. Young celebrities were well known for media stunts so when they heard that a decoy was drawing their attention at the front of the hotel while the real Miranda was only just arriving at the back, there wasn’t anything to question.

Chapter 4
    The Mad Russian
    T he skies were always steel grey in the old country, reflecting the hard land beneath, and the constant of death all around. In his youth, so distant now and entwined with the mists of invention and re-invention, he would often watch the skies for signs. The old women nodded at him, knowing but not knowing, and the men walked around him, eyes averted. He was never young, though, and no one knew his story or his blood. He was simply there one day, walking through the village, eyes to the skittering clouds which seemed to glow with far-away lightning. No one asked where he came from. There were rumors, frequent crossings of chests and pursed lips, but no questions.
    They named him after the Hebrew woman at the edge of the village who took him in, and then they tried to forget about him and the storm of that day which threatened but never really broke.
    In his office overlooking Collins Street, thousands of miles and many decades later, Galkin watched as a new storm brewed in the distance. So much had changed since those early days, but more recently, storms like the one outside brought him back to those older times. He still watched the skies for signs, but decided long ago to make his own way in the world instead of waiting. Looking back at his reflection in